Anytime, Anyplace
by Quiet Intensity
Summary: She was 60 years dead, and he was still alive, his weary heart beating away in his chest. Yume. Post-chapter 93.


**Anytime, Anyplace  
**by Quiet-Intensity 

* * *

_•*•_

_"Nii-sama, won't you take me there someday?" She asked, a manicured nail pointing at the illuminated tower._

_His eyes landed on the photograph. "Paris?"_

_"Yes," she said, looking up at him from where she was nestled in the crook of his arm on their couch, "take me there."_

_"Anything my Yuuki wants," he kissed the top of her head. "Anytime, anyplace – I'll take you there."_

• * •

The air was warm and humid, reminding him of home. '_Home_' was still a foreign word to him, after all these years. But it was true; the place where he came from, the place in which he had lost and gained everything all at once, was still his home – his place of origin, and the place he had always been bound to.

The Eiffel Tower lit up the dark night in front of him. For a while it blinked, glittering beautifully in the middle of the night. There was something magical about it, he mused. It reminded him of stars and shimmering oceans. It reminded him of her eyes…

There it was again, that painful tug on his weary heart. It released quickly, but it was still there, reminding him of what he'd lost and would never see again. He'd ought to gotten over her by now, but 60 years did not seem lengthy enough to heal a man's broken heart. She was always with him in his dreams, behind closed eyelids, whispering her love and kissing his lips with the softest touch, running away from him when he reached for her. Her smile was ever so brilliant, her skin soft as satin and the love in her eyes more sincere than anything – and she wasn't real.

She was 60 years dead, and he was still alive, his weary heart beating away in his chest.

In those 60 years he had experienced so much joy and happiness, so many thrilling events. His rebirth had only been the beginning; together with his daughter and step-son he'd seen every corner of the world. He had met so many people, heard their stories, laughed along with them, danced along with them… and in turn, he had become another man. Another soul.

Surely, this was another _life_.

With his skills he had become a doctor, and through the years he had held many hands, comforted many weeping relatives, sown together and fixed the wounds of people. How many hearts had he seen and touched and fixed throughout the years? He could not say. Funny thing about hearts... funny thing he should dedicate his life to fixing other people's hearts… when he didn't have a heart himself.

His wrinkled right hand rested atop the left part of his chest. _Ba-dump… Ba-dump… _There it was. There _she _was, keeping him alive 60 beats per minute. 40 beats per minute while he slept, 180 beats per minute when he ran races, 97 beats per minute when he was scared and terrified and alone.

Every second, every minute of every hour of every day the last decades he'd been alive and human – her heart had kept him alive to see and experience every moment.

She could not have given him a greater gift – life.

At first, when he woke up to blue skies and blossoming trees, he'd been confused. For so many years he had been away - he had slept peacefully while the world had continued on without him, evolving and changing all the time. And when they told him what had happened, when they told him what year it was, how long he had been gone, how the world had changed while he slept, who they were and _who_ made it possible for him to live another day – he'd cried. No, he'd wept. His mind and body had been a mess – every suppressed emotion and feeling and every possible sensory experience came upon him at once. And the one thing he could understand clearly through his jumbled mind was this; she was gone.

Forever.

Then the anger came, enveloping him in its flames. This went against everything he'd fought for. All his meticulous planning, his merciless actions – abandoning her and killing purebloods and eventually ripping his heart out – had been so she could _live. _So she could be happy and _alive. _Vibrant, fresh, laughing – the Yuuki he knew and loved more than life itself.

He attempted suicide several times... once by cutting his wrists and watching the bathtub overflow with crimson, once by throwing himself off a building, a few times by mixing sleeping pills and alcohol – and each time he was saved by an angel.

Ah, but Yuuki _did_ give him a gift greater than life – their daughter.

Their first years were difficult, each of them dealing with the loss of Yuuki. She had been prepared her whole life for the event, but she would soon confess after a decade or so how much it hurt to say goodbye and watch her beloved mother sacrifice herself. A few hours later she would confess about the hole in her heart she had hidden away – the hole that was caused by her inability to meet her real biological father.

"_I'm sorry," he cried. "If I had known, I wouldn't…"_

_Her hand found his. "It's okay, father. You didn't know. You didn't know. Mother didn't know either at the time. If you didn't do what you had to do back then, then our lives... the whole world would be different. She used to tell me stories about you all the time, she used to tell me about your bravery and your courage, and the way you protected her all that time. She made sure that you were always a part of my life."_

_His fingers pushed away the stray hairs covering her face, her tears blending with his skin. "My sweet daughter."_

He smiled at the memory, his loose and wrinkly skin curling around the edges of his mouth. His hand found the phone in his pocket. The screen glowed as he held it at a distance to see properly. He adjusted his glasses, squinting his eyes.

His screensaver was of her and him at her wedding thirty years ago. She had fallen in love with a human, and had taken the cure to be human with him. She looked so young in the photograph; it was right before she took the cure, still a vampire. Her features were young and bright; today she was in her fifties, signs of her maturity settling in her visage. The reason he chose the photograph as his screensaver was simple; it represented the two loves of his life. His daughter, and her mother, who she resembled almost to the point of being her doppelganger; it was like seeing Yuuki clearly in front of him, stunning in her wedding dress as she smiled.

Oh, had he only been able to marry her back then, in their past life…

Had he not been such a foolish and arrogant man, had he not felt the need to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, had he only taken her to the Eiffel tower like he'd promised…

He felt dizzy and nauseous all of a sudden, and he stumbled slightly forward, his hands bracing him on the balcony. He breathed sharply, feeling numb and in pain at the same time. His heart- no, _her _heart was beating so fast…

A pink butterfly landed on his hand, and he felt at ease as soon as his eyes landed on its beautiful wings. "Always calming me down, huh?" He smiled, bringing his hand with the butterfly up.

That was her symbol, her spirit – the everlasting butterfly, beautifully flapping its wings whenever he was distressed or lonely. They would either land on his shoulder or his hand, just a soft brush of their wings on his skin and he would feel happy and content again.

He was never truly alone in this world.

"You're always with me, ne? Anytime…" He placed the butterfly on his shoulder, lifting his shaking old hand up to point on the shimmering Eiffel tower in front of him.

"Anyplace."

He remembered his past life as a vampire and the thirst that had nearly swallowed him whole. His thirst which has existed back then had slowly been tamed throughout the years as he travelled the world – trekking through the complex ruins of Machu Picchu, savoring the art of renaissance Florence, cuddling with lion cubs in the desert of South-Africa – and the many times he'd saved people's lives and fallen in and out of love… in the end, as he stood there on his balcony looking over the Eiffel tower, and as the light breeze brushed through his grey hair, he realized that his thirst had finally been quenched.

"Always."

He turned and closed the door to his balcony, his movements slow and sluggish. The years had taken their toll on his body; his eternal youth had vanished and been replaced with the image of an old and wise man. His back was bowed, his skin loose and filled with wrinkles - each wrinkle a storyline on his skin. Liver spots covered his hands; the hands that had saved so many lives and held the hands of so many others… he reached over and turned off the light as he laid down in his bed to rest.

A fulfilled life he had lived indeed. He smiled, thinking of her and her smile, falling asleep with ease.

Her heart in his chest stopped beating later that night, and he slipped into a dream that lasted for the rest of his life.

This time when he reached for her, she didn't run away.

•*•

**THE END.**


End file.
